


Sapphic Healing

by Zahira



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ascian, F/F, Femslash, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Tribadism, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10065815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zahira/pseuds/Zahira
Summary: Ysayle never intended the attack at the Steps of Faith to cost so many innocent lives. She is shattered, and only the Paragon who helped her become the embodiment of Saint Shiva can understand.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Some Eorzeans know a different side of them. To the beast tribes and other leaders who learn summoning magic from the Ascians, whose campaigns are carefully guided to feed the growing chaos... they must certainly seem to be patient teachers, mentors, mysterious Paragons of ancient wisdom sent to grant aid to worthy causes against the evils committed in the name of "civilization."
> 
> Add to this the many parallels between Ysayle and Igeyorhm, not the least of which is martyrdom, and this seemed like a natural relationship to explore. Igeyorhm sees something of herself in Ysayle, and it's bittersweet.

Ysayle could not stop laughing. Elated, her plan now irrevocably set in motion to finally allow the dragons the vengeance they deserved. The horde loomed in the sky, spurred on by the shattered wards. They would purge Ishgard of the elements within keeping its people chained by lies, and then...

How quickly elation gave way to horror. She could only look on as the dragons fell upon guilty and innocent alike with equal rage. _No, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this...!_ She was vaguely aware of her own terror-numbed knees slamming into the stones of the Steps of Faith as she watched body after body from among those poor enough to only have been protected by the shattered outer ward be tossed into the Sea of Clouds. One of her followers was grabbing her arm and mouthing something at her, but she heard nothing, and in the dizziness that overwhelmed her, she thought perhaps she, too, had been tossed into the abyss.

She dreamed of falling. She was plummeting through the endless grey abyss, thrown by the very dragons she had sought to aid. Then she was a shard of ice, thrown from a Coerthan storm cloud at a mother and son racing for shelter in a blizzard, striking the mother and creating an orphan. Then a flake of snow, floating gently down onto her own body, just a few short years ago, as she lay freezing in the Calamity's icy grip. As her snow-self landed on her distant body's cheek, paradoxically, she felt the snow tickling, raising a hand to brush it away...

She awoke, then, lying in her chamber on her side, her hand against the source of the dream's disruption--the lightest touch of cool, pointed metal against her cheek, just where the snow had fallen. Ysayle opened her eyes to find her strange mentor seated beside her, watching.

Igeyorhm, she called herself. The Paragon who had appeared to her stating her conviction had earned her the aid of their kind. Igeyorhm had urged her away from her senseless, meaningless raids on minor houses' food stores and taught Ysayle how to channel her band of heretics into a new faith to rival Ishgard's. Their fervent belief and new strategy of attacking caravans of supplies and crystals soon gave life to the lie; Igeyorhm taught Ysayle how to call Saint Shiva's soul from the beyond and take her into herself. It was Igeyorhm again who encouraged Ysayle to try with more and more crystals after being bested by the godsdamned "Warrior of Light," the blind fool. And it was Igeyorhm who encouraged the reckless plan to join with the dragons and attack the Steps of Faith.

The attack... oh Saint Shiva, the things she had witnessed.... Ysayle pressed her hands into her eyes as if to block the images that assaulted her.

Igeyorhm finally spoke, breaking the tormented reverie, her voice rich as honey and smooth as silk. "You collapsed after the Dravanians began their attack. Your men brought you here. Your victory nearly cost you your mind."

"Victory? All those people.... The cycle of hatred only began anew." Ysayle curled her knees into her chest.

Igeyorhm stroked Ysayle's face and hair, soft and comforting touch doing little to dull the pain. "Aye, 'twas a victory. The culmination of your current campaign, for better or worse. The upper echelons of Ishgard have learned the consequence of rewriting history and must now respond, as you desired."

Ysayle said nothing, but her despair turned inward of its own volition. She did this herself. There was no denying the blood that stained her hands any longer.

The black-robed woman broke the silence once more. "I do not intend cruelty. The dragons' victims would still live had Ishgard but admitted its lies before its hand required forcing. Victory can be... costly."

A disgusted scoff burst forth from Ysayle's lips. Overcome with emotion, she sat up quickly--too quickly--and lashed out at the woman. "What know you of the cost of victory? You have only urged me to fight...." She swayed, dizzy, resting her head in her hands. "What battles have _you_ fought..."

But if Ysayle's words were sharp as shards of ice, Igeyorhm's were entrancing as falling snow--filling every crag, smoothing every edge, stilling every sound. "I was once as you are now. I claimed my victory, and it cost me everything. The events that followed spiraled out of my control and ultimately ruined an age of work." Igeyorhm wrapped Ysayle in an embrace, allowing the Elezen to rest her head against her form's neck. "I know a great deal of the cost of victory. I have mended your mind, and you shall persevere. This shall not break you."

Ysayle, meanwhile, was lost in the sudden blatant affection from her mentor. The robes against her blushing cheek were softer than any fabric she knew, and the embrace seemed to spread a cool, calming numbness through her core. "You cared for me...? Personally?" She withdrew her arms, which had been pinned awkwardly between their bodies, and slipped them around Igeyorhm's waist. "Thank you...."

"You must remain whole if you are to continue your fight to reveal the truth." Igeyorhm dismissed her own efforts with such ease, and yet the soft strokes returned, up Ysayle's back, brushing the nape of her neck, and back down again, fingers occasionally weaving through long white hair. "Though I may have given your guard a fright when I appeared before him and demanded you be left in my care. 'Tis the reason you were not greeted by one of your own."

Ysayle chuckled at the image of one of her men scrambling away from those sudden strange appearances; the pool of shadow coalescing into the form of a person could be unsettling. The relief was temporary, though, and a worried silence settled in as Ysayle brooded. "What do I do now? How can I repair the damage I have caused?"

"Your cause must wait for Ishgard's response before advancing." Igeyorhm's counsel had been invaluable these past moons, since Hydaelyn's silence, though it had never been accompanied by such physical comfort; Igeyorhm seemed to know that it was exactly what she needed. "Take this time to tend to yourself. Your people are nothing without their reborn goddess."

Gratitude surged through her, safe in the knowledge that Igeyorhm was there, guiding, watching.... She raised her head to meet her savior's eyes, only to find the same menacing red mask as always.

The curiosity Ysayle had always held about Igeyorhm's strange garb returned, as it ever did. Spurred on by the comforting embrace and soft touches, she withdrew a hand from the woman's waist and traced the mask's odd peaks and valleys, trailing a finger down the line through the center to the tip which all but obscured Igeyorhm's expression. Hesitant to cross a line that would cause her caretaker to recoil, she nevertheless tugged at it, and it came free easily enough. Ysayle set it down carefully on her bedside table before turning back to take in the woman's face.

Strangely vivid aqua blue eyes met Ysayle's paler shade, and a hint of dark blue hair teased from within her hood; it must have come loose when the mask tugged free. Igeyorhm continued tracing Ysayle's body, skimming over her shoulders and down her arms affectionately, allowing Ysayle take her in as none had for an age.

Ysayle, heartened by the passive acceptance of her actions from her mentor, next dared to pull back the prominent black cowl. The fabric fell around her shoulders like liquid shadow, revealing the full shape of her face--hard jaw, high cheekbones, slender lips, and hair cascading in such a strange sapphire blue color. "You are beautiful. Why do you cover yourself?" Ysayle's words were soft and intimate, as though any sound may shatter the moment.

"A sign of service and worship. We are proud to wear these robes." Ysayle absently wondered at the subject of worship, but her awareness snapped back to the present when Igeyorhm began to trace the shape of Ysayle's face, the claw of her index finger dragging gently over her long ear, down her cheek and neck, back up to her nose and over her lips....

Ysayle leaned forward and met Igeyorhm's lips with her own, testing these new boundaries. In spite of the signs and suggestions Igeyorhm had given, she felt stiff and almost uncertain about these advances, and Ysayle pulled away. "Does this displease you?"

Igeyorhm's response was as foreign as the rest of her existence. Wordlessly, her hand trailed down her charge's chest, coming to a rest between her breasts, near her heart. Ysayle did not understand the gesture, but the uncertainty gave way to more familiar urges as the Paragon pulled the mortal woman close, pressing their bodies together. Ysayle was once again overcome with that same blissfully cool comfort, as if she had been suffocating in the steam of a hot spring cavern and had only just stepped out into a refreshing outdoor chill. The sensation made her dizzy again, and she rested her head against Igeyorhm's shoulder as well as she could with the sharp gold ornamentation so near.

And still, Igeyorhm seemed to know what Ysayle wanted. She brushed the curtain of hair aside, and her lips caressed the Elezen's long, elegant neck, sucking lightly, taking care not to mar the delicate flesh in her teases. Her hands slid slowly and deliberately down Ysayle's sides and around her back, down and down until she was clutching at the taller woman's rear. Ysayle's response came in the form of a soft sound from her throat and a hand on the back of Igeyorhm's head, weaving through her hair and pulling her down into a second kiss, deep this time instead of the tentative one before.

Igeyorhm, however, broke the kiss, this time by using the hands that had been exploring Ysayle's behind to hoist her up onto her knees. She could do nothing from her new position but lock eyes with her partner and reach down to stroke her hair; Igeyorhm held her gaze and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the Elezen's sleeping pants--Ysayle realized belatedly that Igeyorhm had likely been the one to dress her--pulling them down to expose smooth, milky thighs and the tempting flesh between them. Teasing, her hands slid slowly back up those very thighs, first at the sides and then moving to the front, thumbs continuing around over to the sensitive inner flesh, daring to slowly slide up, leaving Ysayle watching breathlessly, completely still-- _Now? Already?_

But Igeyorhm did not pursue her goal so quickly, just dragging the barest tip of her thumb's claws over less sensitive outer lips before continuing her trail up Ysayle's body. Raising herself up onto her knees in a position matching that she had placed Ysayle in moments ago, she slipped her hands over skin, under nightclothes, and finally onto breasts to begin her work in earnest. In the midst of Igeyorhm's slow, attentive massage, fingers occasionally skimmed over Ysayle's hard nipples, each time sending a tremor between her legs as if the two places were connected directly. Igeyorhm smirked softly at this, lifting her shirt; Ysayle, breathing heavily, assisted her in its removal as Igeyorhm moved to manipulate her right nipple with her tongue. Hard flicks alternated with soft sucks and kisses as her hand attended Ysayle's other breast, passing her fingers gently over the nipple, drawing soft gasps and whimpers from her partner.

Ysayle, through her mounting lust, could not help but clench her thighs and rock her hips, stoking the fire Igeyorhm seemed determined to light within her. Her own hands roamed Igeyorhm's robes, frustrated by the clothing remaining between them, before returning her slender fingers to Igeyorhm's hair. "Let me touch you," she whispered into blue strands; the Paragon pretended not to hear, instead switching her tongue's attention to Ysayle's other nipple. Growing still more frustrated, Ysayle tried to equalize their positions, lifting Igeyorhm's upper body from her breasts while lowering her own, but Igeyorhm burst into incorporeal shadow, leaving Ysayle suddenly leaning backward without the other woman's weight as a counterbalance, falling back onto the bed.

Igeyorhm's shadowy form followed the Elezen down but did not immediately recoalesce into the familiar form Ysayle had come to know. Instead, the shadow spread over her nude body, drawing a teasing tingle wherever it touched skin; part of it settled on her breasts, part caressed her sensitive neck and ears, and part flowed between Ysayle's thighs, pushing them apart in a silent demand that they spread. Ysayle obliged, the teasing shadow drawing up and up and up....

"Please," Ysayle whispered, uncertain Igeyorhm could even hear her in this shadow shape. It responded by withdrawing from her breasts and neck, concentrating between her legs, and reforming into Igeyorhm, now devoid of clothing. The shadow that had been against Ysayle's thighs formed into her hands, Igeyorhm's head--Twelve, her _mouth_ \--suddenly not an ilm from Ysayle's clit. Igeyorhm hesitated, locking eyes wth Ysayle, awaiting--what exactly? "Please," Ysayle repeated, begging now; her master finally relented.

Igeyorhm's tongue began flat and soft, licking up and then down over Ysayle's clit; the Elezen's breaths shuddered out in pants that were equal parts relief, pleasure, and anticipation. Igeyorhm was starting slow, prolonging the pleasure, and while Ysayle relished the attention, she desperately wanted more pressure, more speed; she rocked her hips into Igeyorhm's mouth, but the response was not what she had hoped it would be. Instead of acquiescing, Igeyorhm's hands shifted out around her thighs, clamping down on her hips, preventing movement, drawing a whimper from her throat. Her mouth soon rested on Ysayle's clit, sucking with slowly increasing strength, and Ysayle occupied her hands at her own breasts, tugging on her nipples, supplementing Igeyorhm's ministrations with that same powerful connected tingle from before, heat pooling in her bud and threatening to burst forth at any moment.

As Ysayle's ever-heightening arousal released still more soft cries of pleasure into the room, Igeyorhm darted her straightened, flexed tongue into Ysayle's sex, penetrating before dragging it out and up, sealing her mouth onto her clit. Ysayle dug the heels of her feet into Igeyorhm's back as the Paragon finally flicked and sucked with the speed and pressure Ysayle had wanted all this time. Panting breaths turned to gasps, whimpers became moans, clenched muscles began to twitch, then to spasm, and Ysayle cried out as she finally felt herself plummet over the edge, rapturous bliss replacing the mounted tight yearning Igeyorhm had worked so hard to build.

Igeyorhm slowly released her grasp on Ysayle's clit and hips as her climax faded, raising herself over the other woman's prone body. She kissed gently up her stomach and the center of her chest, avoiding thin overstimulated flesh as she waited for her lover to recover, but a rattling at the door jolted Ysayle back to reality more quickly than she might have liked. One of her men called to her from beyond the latched door. "My lady? Are you hurt?"

Igeyorhm chuckled softly, her lips playing over Ysayle's collarbone as she whispered. "It seems they heard you." She pulled herself up to the Elezen's lips and nibbled tenderly; Ysayle reveled in the feeling of Igeyorhm's bare skin on hers for the first time. Before there was the robe, but now.... Her skin was smooth as silk, her breasts perfectly firm, nipples brushing tantalizingly against her own. Ysayle explored with greedy hands even as her equally greedy tongue learned her own taste from Igeyorhm's mouth.

The door rattled again, more urgently. "My lady?!"

Ysayle sighed as she broke the kiss, intending to respond, but Igeyorhm spoke first. "You are their goddess. They love you and fear you... and fear _for_ you."

A nod, then, as Ysayle called out in a strong voice. "I am well. Leave me be." Her hands learned every curve on Igeyorhm's body as she lay draped over Ysayle. "Goddess, am I...." She rolled Igeyorhm's nipple between her thumb and forefinger. "And yet you deny me." Her other hand explored Igeyorhm's waist and rear, pulling gently to indicate she should come forward. Igeyorhm raised her body and moved her hips far enough to place her breast at Ysayle's mouth, but was nearly thrown off balance when the Elezen continued to tug on her waist, her hips, her knees, demanding she continue to come forward, until finally she realized the goal.

Igeyorhm lowered herself onto Ysayle's lips, sighing with the first teasing flicks of her tongue over her clit. Ysayle allowed Igeyorhm more freedom than she herself had been allowed, and soon her hips were rocking into her mouth, demanding more. Fascinated by the perfect blemishless body that grinded atop her, slave to every flick and twitch of her tongue, natural moisture leaking onto her chin, Ysayle inserted slender fingers into her lover. She worked them in and out slowly, pressing against the front wall, searching for--and finding, judging by Igeyorhm's gasp--the sensitive spot there.

Igeyorhm leaned back into Ysayle's fingers as they worked, and Ysayle raised her legs to give her partner a place to prop herself up. Instead, Igeyorhm used her legs to hold on to Ysayle's arms and shoulders, taking advantage of the new position to stroke the Elezen's still-soaked slit anew, slipping a finger inside despite the awkward position restricting her depth. The reawakening arousal drew soft moans that vibrated through Ysayle's lips and into Igeyorhm's clit, creating a blissful circle of pleasure that could scarce be stopped--the more fervently Ysayle worked, the more enthusiastically Igeyorhm returned the favor, lust drawing still more from Ysayle.

But Ysayle abruptly stopped, pushing Igeyorhm from her mouth; Igeyorhm cried out with a frustrated shiver at the retaliation for her earlier displays of power, but said nothing. "My way now," Ysayle whispered, and Igeyorhm allowed the Elezen woman to push her down onto the bed. Ysayle straddled one of Igeyorhm's legs and lifted the other onto her shoulder, pressing saliva-soaked flesh together, pleasure blossoming between each woman's thighs as their slick hoods slipped over each other. Their pace quickened in sync with each other, and the sounds of their heaving pants and moans mingled. Ysayle's arousal heightened still further upon seeing Igeyorhm's loss of control--this cool, calm mystery now squirming beneath her, tugging her own nipples, as tightly wound and begging for release as she herself had been moments before.... This time, Ysayle did not stop, and soon they were both in the throes of bliss, Igeyorhm's torso so tight that it drew her up toward her lover, Ysayle falling forward, long hair tumbling over her shoulders in a curtain that closed the world away as they trembled against each other.

Silence reclaimed the room as their gasps subsided; Ysayle fell back down onto the bed beside Igeyorhm, whose silent uncertainty seemed to return. "Was that part of the healing process too?" Ysayle teased, attempting to coax the mystery out of her shell.

Igeyorhm remained silent for a moment, as if searching for an answer, finally settling on "Perhaps for both of us." Ysayle affectionately stroked Igeyorhm's body in a mirror of the affection she herself had been shown, but the enigmatic immortal seemed to be lost in a sullenness that refused comfort. Igeyorhm sat up, picking up a blanket at the foot of the bed, covering Ysayle with it. "Rest. Your camp will wake in a few short bells. You must be there to congratulate them on this victory. They will need their beacon to tell them that this was right."

Ysayle nodded, but all she could see when she closed her eyes were bodies being tossed into the abyss. When she awoke, all that remained of Igeyorhm was a mask on her bedside table.


End file.
